


Something New

by ImpishTubist



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishTubist/pseuds/ImpishTubist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, John wonders what it might have been like to meet Greg just a little bit earlier in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Small_Hobbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/gifts).



> A story I wrote for [Small Hobbit's](http://thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com/profile) birthday, inspired by a prompt given to me by [linguini17](http://linguini17.livejournal.com/profile) a million years ago. Takes place many years after TRF and Sherlock’s return. Originally posted on Tumblr last week. I hope you had a wonderful birthday, friend. You deserve it!

The bride looked just like her father.

She was tall and gorgeous, with hazel eyes and hair so dark that it was almost black. Hers was a commanding presence, but not because she was loud or boisterous. In fact, it was probably because she wasn’t particularly outspoken. She was soft and earnest, and exuded such kindness that it was difficult not to notice her. This was supposed to be her day - hers and Michael’s - but even so, she was carefully watching everyone who had attended the ceremony and reception. She was watching _over_ them, actually – John knew that look in her eyes well, having seen it so many times in his husband’s. At the moment, Anna was kneeling by one of the youngest bridesmaids - a girl of no more than seven - and was carefully wiping away her tears. It was late in the evening at this point, and the youngest of the guests were starting to make their discomfort known. 

_ God _ . She was so much like her father, from her appearance down to her personality, that John felt an unexpected burning sensation behind his eyes. He wished he could have known her as a child. He wished he could have seen her grow. 

“She’s gonna be a natural parent.”

John turned to see that Greg had appeared at his elbow. His eyes were fixed on Anna, and there was a watery smile on his face - the same smile he had been wearing since he had escorted her down the aisle earlier that day. 

“You’re going to be a grandfather before you know it.” John tweaked his ear, and Greg gave a huff of laughter. “ _Grandpa_. I like the sound of it.”

Greg made a face, but he wasn’t fooling anybody. The man was itching for grandchildren. “I don’t.”

“Best get used to it, Grandad.” John drew his husband close for a brief kiss, and then pulled away. “She’s calm.”

“Hell of a lot calmer than we were,” Greg said dryly, and John laughed. 

Anna had been fifteen when Greg had finally introduced her to John, and to say they had got off to a rough start was a severe understatement. She’d taken her parents’ divorce hard; meeting her father’s new lover three years after that blow was like rubbing salt in an open wound. It took her a further two years to grudgingly accept that John wasn’t going anywhere, and she slowly warmed to him after that. 

She was twenty when they married, and she’d stood at Greg’s side while Sherlock stood up for John. John remembered their wedding only in fits and spurts, given how nervous he had been at the time. The only part of the ceremony he recalled with any real clarity was the exchange of rings. That, and the final part of their vows.

_ … I will share my life with you. _

Greg slid an arm around John’s waist, and they stood there for some moments in a comfortable silence, watching Anna and her new husband mingle with the guests. She had turned twenty-nine just the other week; John had known her for almost half her life now. It didn’t seem like enough. The prickling sensation behind John’s eyes returned, and he blinked it away rapidly. 

“What is it?” Greg asked quietly. John shook his head. “Don’t give me that, Johnny.”

“Wish I’d met you earlier,” he whispered. “Wish I’d known you for longer… wish I could’ve seen Anna grow up. She’s so…”

He trailed off. Greg’s arm tightened around his waist. 

“She’s the best thing ever to happen to me,” he said gruffly. He gave a soft chuckle. “The two of you would have been right terrors, if you’d known her as she was growing up. You would’ve ganged up on me, I know it.”

John sniffed and then laughed, grateful that Greg had played along with his fantasy. The truth of the matter was, he couldn’t have met Greg any sooner than he did, and he couldn’t have known Anna as a child. Greg had been married - and, thus, faithful - during the first eighteen months of his association with John; therefore, their relationship would never have happened any other way than it did. That didn’t keep John from imagining, though, what it might have been like to raise this amazing girl with Greg.

“Smile, Dad.” And suddenly Anna was at Greg’s side, her grin bright in the dim lighting of the reception hall. “It’s not the end of the world, you know, seeing your daughter get married.”

“Not even close,” Greg agreed, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “I’m so happy for you, little one. So proud.”

“Oh, Dad, please don’t cry,” Anna said hastily, looking almost panicked as Greg’s voice shook on the last word. “Not again. Please? I’m still your little girl, I promise.”

Greg gave a wet chuckle, and Anna pulled him into a fierce hug. When they pulled apart, Anna gave Greg a smile and absently adjusted his necktie. The soft light from the candles caught the few strands of silver in her hair; like her father, she had started to go grey early, and it suited her well. 

“Love you, Daddy,” she whispered, her voice so quiet that John barely picked up on the words. She kissed his cheek. “And you, John.”

John blinked, taken aback at the shift of the attention onto him.

“Sorry, what?”

“You heard me.” Anna leaned in and kissed his cheek as well. She smelled of apple and cinnamon, and John held her in a loose embrace before reluctantly releasing her. “You’re the one I came over here to see, anyway. Care for a dance?”

“Sorry?” John repeated dumbly.

Anna held out her hand. “A dance, silly. I already had mine with Dad, so it’s your turn.”

John’s gaze flicked between her and Greg, who looked equally confused. Anna sighed and took both of John’s hands into her own. 

“Come on,” she said softly, giving his hands a firm squeeze. “I want to dance with both of my dads. Please?”

John gave a choked laugh and, instead of obliging her, pulled her into a fierce hug. He’d never know what it had been like to raise her, but that was all right, because he had her now. She was his, in every way but name, and that was really all that mattered. 

“Of course, baby girl,” he whispered against her fine hair. He shut his eyes and willed away the tears, with minimal success. “Anything for you. I love you so much, you know that?”

Anna gently detached herself from his grip, but the smile she flashed him was wavering and her eyes were overbright.

“Love you, too,” she said softly. She swiped the heel of her hand under both her eyes and gave a discreet sniff. “So how about that dance, Pops?”


End file.
